


Call In to Talk?

by xxELF21xx



Series: Incoming Call [2]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Radio, Edited so we do not die, Gen, Light Angst, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Ryan's a radio host, Sallie House, Shane is Ryan's #1 fan don't @ me, Shane is a sceptical listener, Steven is a Mom Friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-11 18:15:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15321384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxELF21xx/pseuds/xxELF21xx
Summary: Ryan’s down with the flu, and is feeling down because nobody’s paying attention to the show. Shane steps in to help.





	Call In to Talk?

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!! Just a head's up, you might wanna read the first part of the series to get a better grip of the story!
> 
> Based off of [pichiba's](http://pichiba.tumblr.com/) Radio!AU, check it out, it's hella rad.

Ryan stares at the control panel, a little lost. 

Let’s rewind, yeah?

Ryan, the kind soul he was, was persuaded  _(more like peer pressured, but he’s not going to be **that** mean) _to take over his best friend Steven’s radio show so that he could return home and spend time with family. Unawares of the traps, Film student Ryan went on to set up a show talking about unsolved mysteries. 

While most listeners had their fun, pitching in ideas and other possible theories, two of them decided to be a pain in his side and tear apart his theories with even  _more_ possible science, leaving him flustered and a little embarrassed. Well, one of them dropped off the face of the world,  _rest in peace, Brent,_ but the other one, an even more annoying man named  _Shane,_ decided to wreck havoc in his little haven by having Ryan play into his little game. 

Shane truly knew how to smooth talk his way to the results, and Ryan hated it. He hated it because he’d thought that Shane would just be a casual listener, but it turns out that his new  _“friend”_ decided to become one of his most loyal listeners. Every session, every  _fucking morning at 3,_ Shane would be there, live-tweeting how he thinks the weird theories are all whacky and supporting scientific theories with evidence and proof. At the half-hour mark, he’d call in to argue with Ryan for a solid five to seven minutes, leaving the Film student gasping for breath and bubbling with irritation. Then, as the show comes to an end, Shane would haughtily tweet out  _“seems like the Boogaras are losing, again.”_

They’ve gotten to a point where people have begun taking  _Shane’s_ side, and more and more people are converting. It took the fun away from being a supernatural radio show host. It was  _tiring_ to talk, now. Shane would always be there, armed with his stupid science, ready to rip apart everything Ryan built. 

Long story short, Ryan doesn’t like Shane very much. 

 

 

Just his godforsaken luck. 

The last day of Unsolved, and he gets a cold. Great. 

Ryan sniffles miserably, eyes and nose red and stuffy, leaking gross liquid. Steven had come back to the States a week ago and told him that Worth It would be back on air in about three days, leaving Ryan with the final Saturday, 3 AM slot. 

Then, he had to fall ill. Fantastic. 

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ Steven asks, handing him a paper towel and wincing at the noise that escapes Ryan’s nose. He nods, hoarsely replying, ‘I’ll be okay.’ 

‘You don’t have to force yourself, dude,’ his best friend reprimands lightly, smoothing circles into his back, ‘I can take over. We’re done with the scripts and stuff.’ 

Ryan shakes his head, glaring at the lunch table, ‘no, no. I can do this.’  _I need to do this._ ‘Worth It doesn’t deserve to get the worst slot ever.’ Steven levels him with a glare, aggressively stabbing his bowl of noodles with chopsticks, ‘my  _best friend_ doesn’t deserve to overwork himself when he’s  _not feeling well and has a test to study for.’_ They both stare at each other, until the other breaks. ‘Really, Ryan, you don’t have to.’ 

‘I want to,’ he whispers, softly, ‘I- I got attached.’ Steven’s eyes widen by a fraction, yellow noodles slipping off his chopsticks, ‘I need to say goodbye.’ He knows he must look pathetic, clinging to something as dumb as a supernatural radio show. But, it was his  _baby._ He loved interacting with the live-feed, the preparation, the recording, the whole routine and mood. 

They sit in silence for a long while, a dark cloud over their heads. 

Steven lets out a slow breath, grip tightening on his utensil, ‘okay.’ 

Ryan startles, ‘okay?’ 

‘Okay. You get to do a last slot for Unsolved.’ The Chem student drums his free hand on the table, ‘but, if you feel terrible, I’m not letting you enter the studio.’ The underlying threat of something horrific eases into his tone a little too easily, but Ryan lets it slide in favour of thanking Steven.

‘You’re the best,’ he chokes, tears blinding his vision. 

 

 

Which brings him back to the current setting: he’s in the studio, Steven and Adam, alongside TJ, on the other side of the glass, ensuring that everything’s alright and things are running smoothly online. Steven has a perpetual frown on his face, worry lines creasing his forehead. 

 _‘Ryan, what’s going on?’_ Steven’s voice rings in his headphones. The Twitter live-feed was full of  _“get well soon”_ s and other minor insults/concerns about how he shouldn’t be on air if he was feeling unwell. 

They weren’t talking about the show at all. 

A twinge of hurt strikes in his chest. He sniffles, ignoring Steven’s concerned shouting and TJ’s attempts to fill the silence. He can’t even  _end_ Unsolved the way he wants to. Just grand. 

 _‘Incoming call,’_ Adam’s soft voice pulls him out of his stupor, urging him to pick it up. Ryan does so, albeit slowly, ‘hey, wha–’ He’s abruptly cut off by a familiar voice, one that’s so used to mocking him.

‘Are you saying that something happened at the Sallie House and nobody in their right minds filmed it? Are we really going to trust some probable hallucinations?’ Shane’s annoying voice leaves him stumped.

‘Huh?’ He wasn’t expecting anyone to talk about the case at all. ‘You heard me, Ryan,’ Shane replies, ‘wait let me get on Twitter and just– okay. Check the feed, dude.’ Ryan does so, adjusting the brightness to see that Shane’s posted several photos of diagrams and heat signature readings. There’s a rustling sound on the other line, ‘you see it, right?’

‘Well, I’m definitely seeing  _something,_ alright,’ he fires back automatically, confusion and rage fueling him. ‘Good, good,’ Shane murmurs, the rustling continues, then another tweet loads. It’s more pictures, this time, hand-drawn. Ryan expands all the images, eyes going back and forth. 

Shane clears his throat, ‘right, so, I’m drawing out the setting of the so-called  _“incident”_ and sent you images of the heat signatures of the area during that day, as well as the insides of the flashlight. It could very likely be possible that the light turned off and on due to the irregularities of the surrounding temperatures.’

Ryan sputters, scrambling for a counter attack, ‘but- it happened more than  _thrice,_ when they were demanding the demon turn it on!’ Shane hums, as if mulling over it seriously, ‘have you ever considered the fact that when they talked in close proximity to the light, they were actually releasing heat, which could cause it to turn on and off?’ 

It leaves him stumped, for a few microseconds. 

Shane prattles on, listing out all the possible situations and scenarios for the light to have been acting weird, tweeting out even more pictures and diagrams to help facilitate his point. Ryan slowly gets the point, and comes up with a few more arguments, talking about how some rooms in the house had stable heat signatures but experienced the same things. 

At this point, the live-feed has shifted from talking about Ryan to talking about the case. 

‘User @boo-gara-fan made a good point: it can’t be possible that the light acted weird on command, but then stabilise itself again for the rest of the incident. It’s almost too coincidental.’ Ryan wants to applaud himself for being able to stand up for his own point, glad that there were people on his side. 

Steven has been strangely quiet, he glances up to see if his friend was still around. Sure enough, there he was. A big, broad smile on his face, eyes glimmering in relief and pride.  _Huh?_

Before he gets a chance to ask, more people chime in with their own opinions, and the show is back on track. 

 

 

‘–and this has been Ryan Bergara! Thank you guys for being such awesome listeners these past two months! It’s been a blast, hosting Unsolved. I had my good and bad moments, but I hope I was a good host and provided the entertainment you were seeking. Thank you, and farewell!’ Ryan cuts the recording, ignoring the tears sliding down his cheeks and the tremble in his voice. 

He was done. Unsolved is over.

The crew start to move in, clearing up the area and helping him one final time in shutting the studio’s power off. Before the live-feed is cut off, he sees a final tweet flash on the screen: 

 **Shane Madej** @shanealexmadej

_Take care of yourself. I hate hearing you sound sick. It’s been fun._

Ryan chokes back all the tears he’s been holding back. Sliding down against the control table, he finally lets his sobs out, lamenting how the end of something he loved had finally come.

Forty minutes later, Ryan locks up the room for the last time. He stares at the door.  _Studio 13,_ it says, painted in bright orange. He takes a deep breath, walking towards the front desk. He signs his name on the checkout sheet, turns his Crew ID in, and drops off the keys in the pink box for the last time. 

 

 

‘Ryan!’ Steven yells from across the field, running to him at full speed. ‘I’ve got news for ya, buddy!’ Ryan is about to ask what happened when Steven crushes him into a hug. 

‘Unsolved is back.’ Steven whispers, a grin in his words. 

‘What?!’ The words have yet to settle in when Steven drags a tall, lanky man in front of him. ‘He’s been pressuring the studio to give your show back to you, and they finally relented! On three conditions, though: you get the prime slot, and have to do supernatural  _and_ crime.’ 

‘What? Where’s the third?’

The other man smiles at him, genuine and relaxed. ‘Nice to meet you, I’m Shane Madej, your new co-host.’

**Author's Note:**

> Stop by and chat with me on [tumblr?](<a%20href=)


End file.
